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Grace Mendel

Less than two months ago, I had a very stable 9-5 job. I woke up every morning, made my bed, got dressed, ate breakfast, and hopped on the orange line. I mapped out exactly how many pages I could read on the train before getting off at Back Bay Station, where I’d ascend the escalator,…

At 11 PM on a Saturday night, I sat down to start on work for one of my four jobs. A few hours later, as I dipped a granola bar into a mug of watery hot chocolate from a package that’s been sitting in a kitchen drawer for over a year, I felt it might be time to…

When I daydream about coming home for the holidays, I think of wearing slippers and cozy sweaters for days at a time, sitting in front of the fire until my eyelids begin to droop, and waking up to views of the rolling blue Berkshire hills. Mostly, however, I think of cooking. I think of dreaming…

There’s something about a rainy day in fall. Most of the trees are completely bare, their black, lichened branches hovering uncertainly against the grey sky, but some still revel in a subtle glory of tarnished yellow and onionskin brown. I watch from the seventh floor as people move along the sodden sidewalks below; tiny specks beneath their bobbing umbrellas….

Whenever I walk through a museum, I imagine which paintings and sculptures I would buy if I were deliriously rich. It’s not that I fantasize about owning art—I think it belongs in public where everyone can enjoy it—but I love collecting pieces in my mind. If I could have anything in my home as part…

I can always smell the seasons change. I know it sounds like something no one under the age of 70 would say, but it’s true. Spring and summer are easy, those full-on gusts of warm air hinting at stirring roots and blades of grass about to burst. Fall and winter are more elusive: a brief snap…

In honor of my grandma (Anna) on what would have been her 93rd birthday. My brother, sister and I used to walk down the beach, toward the distant pier, past the graying bungalows with their tinted glass windows, past the small stretch of beach with mismatched chairs and ominously taut fishing rods, finally reaching the neat…

I’ve always been guilty of going straight to the pictures. Whenever a book had that section of thick glossy pages in the center, I’d spend about a minute and a half trying to resist, and then flip hastily to the middle and pore over every picture and caption in detail. Then I’d go back to…

Sometimes the best meals aren’t the glamorous ones. Take right now, for example. It’s mid-July and the weather is cool and heavenly. The city of Boston is lively and aglow. There are a million new restaurants and award-winning ice cream flavors and tacos that would probably make my heart sing. People are drinking cooling cocktails…

My mom’s garden is surrounded by a 12 foot fence. The door swings open and latches shut. She wages a constant battle against the deer and voles that try to graze and tunnel through her most prized beds. She drives her car out over the lawn, pulls up close to the garden and blasts the radio…